


Like Teeth

by future_fangirl



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: Also our sweet future Lyatt because they are adorable, F/M, Fix-It, Future Lyatt, Sorry this is surprisingly angsty for smut, They might hate each other but the chemistry is real, but what else do you expect from me, this totally happened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2020-01-16 03:18:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18512818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/future_fangirl/pseuds/future_fangirl
Summary: They hated each other. And this was such a bad idea. But that’s why it was so appealing. (Future Lyatt after they get back from 2018.) They love each other, they almost lost everything. (Movie timeline 2023 Lyatt in the aftermath of Sao Paulo.)





	1. Future Lyatt- Dystopian Version

**Author's Note:**

> Not all love is gentle. Sometimes it’s gritty and dirty and possessive, sometimes it’s not supposed to be careful or soft at all. Sometimes it feels like teeth.  
> Azra T.

“Well, we did it.” Lucy collapsed against the seat of the old Lifeboat, her stomach still churning from the movement. The headache was fading as she took deep breaths of air. She never suspected she’d would be grateful to get back to the complete hell hole that was their life but now it was a relief not to feel as if her head was going to explode.  
“Let’s see if it worked.” Wyatt unbuckled his seat belt and said after a moment, “This old tin can sure seems rickety.”  
“It is,” Lucy said. She and Wyatt hated each other. That is what she always told herself. Because it was easier to say she hated him than to admit that if she hated him she hated herself more. She could see the look of disgust on her past self’s face. The pain on her face as she’d thrown her the journal and ordered her to solve things with Wyatt. Not communicating had gotten them to this place. Barely able to speak to each other. So full of pain and hatred they could barely stand the sight of each other.  
She glanced over at him as the door of the Lifeboat rolled open to reveal the same dismal scene they’d left. The same warehouse which had been their home for months. “Well, I guess we see if it works,” Wyatt said quietly.  
“If it works we’ll be erased. This version of us will have never existed.” Lucy reminds him.  
“God, that would be wonderful.” His eyes lit up with something like hope. Lucy’s heart softened in spite of herself.  
“It sure would.” She added.  
Her body felt rung out from the jump and she knew she couldn’t take too many more of them. There had been the jump to retrieve the journal. The jump to Chinatown to change things. The jump to Sao Paulo. And now breaking the rules of time travel to speak to their past selves. A really terrible idea but they were desperate.  
She was startled when Wyatt helped her down from the Lifeboat. He’d come to accept that she was just as capable a fighter as he. He never babied her. It was one of the things she appreciated from him. This time his helping didn’t annoy her. Sometimes a tiny part of her wanted to be taken care of. A tiny part of her wanted the old things she’d run away from.  
She was even more surprised when he placed a cup of water in her hands. Water was scarce after the nuclear explosion but he’d wasted some of their precious water in getting her a cup and a wet rag. Sighing heavily she patted her face. Could she ever imagine a time when she’d be grateful for tepid water and a wet rag?  
“God, we looked so young and innocent back there. Like children.” She sighed. It was unfair how much she wanted to be that Lucy. That Lucy who still looked sweet. Who hadn’t stained her hands with so much blood? Even Wyatt looked so ridiculously young and innocent. She was still angry at that version of Wyatt but he hadn’t gone running after Jessica and her “baby” for years on end.  
“Yeah, it’s all before we screw up our lives.” He said bitterly. Lucy would have normally made some remark that she hadn’t screwed up her life but she knew it was a lie. She’d done just as much to damage them as he had. She’d consistently pushed him towards Jessica and then when it turned out she was Rittenhouse had gone running to the first person who seemed to understand. Her relationship with Flynn had been ill-advised even though Lucy had thought it hadn’t been motivated by loneliness. It had seemed nice at the time. Until it hadn’t. Until Flynn had called her out on her bull shit and it had blown up into a massive fight. Flynn’s death a few months later had left her with the same pile of guilt Wyatt experienced when Jessica died. Then there had been the arguments over mission and strategy, perhaps the arguments which had been the hardest to overcome. Unlike the others, it was the fact that their moral code no longer seemed to be the same. Lucy had become that person in the journal she feared and despised and Wyatt despised her for being that person. She was supposed to be better than him.  
“Maybe we can’t change anything. Maybe this really is all fate?” She couldn’t help the tears that slid down her cheeks. “Because I can’t live in this world any longer. I can’t handle this life.”  
“Neither can I.”  
She didn’t want to hate him any longer. She didn’t want to hate him at all. True he had screwed up but Lord knows so had she. And she wanted to say the words. Wanted to tell him all the things she’d never had the courage to. She wanted to apologize but the words stuck in her mouth. She wanted to wipe away all the pain of the last five years. She wanted so much that was impossible.  
She glanced over at him speculatively. Then she placed the glass on the ground and stood up very slowly. Wyatt was standing there looking slightly confused as if the expression on her face was puzzling. No wonder, it was puzzling. Their gazes locked for a few seconds and then she pounced.  
It was the first kiss since Hollywoodland. It was fierce and demanding and savage. It felt like the second their lips met the repressed passion she’d spent years trying to hide came roaring back, determined to be appeased. He seemed to feel the same way, the punishing plunder of his tongue against her own and the sharp stinging pain of his teeth against her lip sending sparks down her spine. She had no desire to talk about this. No desire to give herself any time to back out of it.  
Relief filtered through her when he seemed to have the same idea. A moan ripped itself from her throat when those large calloused hands slipped under the hem of her paper-thin tank top and dug into her skin. His mouth moved from her lips to her neck, teeth sinking into her delicate skin with a sharp pressure that made her wince deliciously. Her hands moved from his neck to his chest, sliding along to his back where she scratched down in slow punishing stripes. This was hard and dirty and unlike anything she’d ever experienced.  
A few seconds later her back was against the wall and her hands were all but tearing his shirt off of his body. She saw his hands shake as he tried removing her shirt but her attempts at helping resulted in tangled fabric bunched around her arms. “Rip it.” She ordered.  
They no longer had the luxury of ripped clothing. But she didn’t care. They’d be disappeared or dead before it would matter. The sound of tearing fabric rent the air as those powerful hands destroyed the tank in seconds. The fabric fell to the ground. Lucy remembered the gentleness of Hollywoodland. The way he’d worshipped her body like she was a goddess. Those days were long gone. Neither of them wanted gentle. They didn’t know how to do gentle.  
She felt his fingers unbutton her pants and shoved them and her underwear down. Her own hands reached for his buckle to do the same. A second of hesitation passed over them. There was no way either of them could pass this off as blowing off steam. They didn’t do this. They hated each other. They wanted to tear each other apart.  
Then again, that was what made this moment feel so hot. Lucy had never been so turned on in her life. She’d never wanted anyone the way she wanted him at this moment. Not even him way back in Hollywoodland. The look in his eyes as he stared down at her was just as possessive and dirty as her own. The second of hesitation didn’t linger. She jerked his worn belt and tugged at the buttons noticing exactly how much he wanted her before she pushed them down.  
His lips attached themselves to her neck just as his fingers slipped into her. A wanton moan escaped her mouth as the pressure he was using was just enough to wind her tighter but not enough to relieve the aching in her core. Her fingers dug into his back, clawing at his skin as he continued to mercilessly tease her. It was the ultimate game of chicken. Who would cave first and beg? She bit her lip and forced the moans down but was unable to stop her back from arching off the wall. He was winning this game.  
In her lust drunk state, she tried reaching out to grasp him but his other hand took both her hands and pinned them to the wall. Another groan was ripped from her. She loved control, that was hardly a surprise. Right now she had no control whatsoever. And for some reason, she was fucking loving it. Her brain would probably be thinking up reasons to stop this but now she could shut off that logical part of her that told her that this was a bad idea. She’d always known his hands were strong, those hands that had fought and killed and yet were still capable of such tenderness. All those years she’d watched him at work, longing for his touch, desiring the imprint of his fingers all over her. Now, pinned in an invisible web against the wall she felt vulnerable.  
He curled his fingers inside of her and she cried out again, panting as her body lingered on the brink. Just as she was feeling the prickling relief of release he let go of her hands and removed his hands from her body. She sagged weakly against the wall as she stared up at him, anger already searing through her. Was he trying to punish her?  
“You bastard. God, I hate you.” She seethed.  
“The feeling is mutual, Babydoll.” He smirked down at her. “But I have something you want.”  
“I don’t want anything.” She muttered weakly as his hands slipped under her worn bra and pinched her breasts roughly. She’d never have dreamed when she was the innocent little historian back in the old bunker that this kind of thing would be a turn on. “Besides I think I have something you want.”  
“Oh, you do.” He replied. She braced herself as he entered her in one thrust, the impact still sending her reeling harder into the wall. This time it was he who groaned as his head rested against the wall. It took him a minute to move but when he did her body reacted just as it had in Hollywood. This was harsh and rough, a far cry from the tenderness of that moment, but it was what she wanted. It was perfectly imperfect.  
“Harder.” She ordered, her own body moving with each thrust, the sensation of being slammed against the wall each time sending shock waves of pain and pleasure through her. It felt so good. Her hands gripped those powerful shoulders as she dug on, nails scratching until a drop of blood formed. The sounds coming from their mouths was harsh, dirty and drenched in desire.  
“Look at me.” He ordered. She opened her eyes, startled at the expression in them. She hadn’t seen such softness in years. This wasn’t according to plan. This was supposed to be a fuck, not a tender moment. Hips slamming into hers she shut her eyes again, unable to look into his.  
“We’re idiots, you know.” A trace of a laugh filtered through his voice as his pace slowed slightly.  
“If you can talk we aren’t doing a good job.” She gritted out. A twist of her pelvis and clenching of her core and he was groaning and disoriented again.  
Her release ripped through suddenly, for once not even needing any other stimulation. He came seconds after her, the explosions rocking through them before he untangled himself from her. Lucy’s first impulse was to run the other way. She should. This wasn’t something they did. They didn’t have passionate, wild uninhibited sex with each other. They hated each other. They argued and fought and bickered. But god, this was exactly what she wanted. And besides, this version of them was going to be erased and replaced by the much more rational and normal versions of them.  
Lucy told herself the reason she wasn’t moving was that she was worn out. She closed her eyes and struggled for breath. “We’re idiots, you know,” Wyatt repeated.  
“I agree. But what prompted that.” She said dryly.  
“Always chasing after other people. Never willing to admit we made a damn good team. Always fighting and screaming because neither of us was willing to admit we wanted this.” His tone gave her pause. He was dead serious.  
“Wyatt, we don’t do this. We don’t do this.” Lucy repeated. “Been there, done that. It didn’t work.”  
“We never even tried. We were too damn scared and that’s why we weren’t ever anything. We both went to what was safe and comfortable and familiar. Because this is fucking terrifying.” Lucy almost laughed at calling Jessica or Flynn safe and comfortable. It was true though. Wyatt had gone back to Jessica over and over because he was so used to her abuse and because he was comfortable with the barbs and insults and harshness. And she’d ended up with Flynn because deep down she’d known it would never last. Because he’d been running off to chase Lorena and she’d be left high and dry. Better to invest in whatever it was than focus on what it wasn’t. Love had been off the table.  
“It’s not like it’s going to matter. This version of us won’t exist much longer.” Lucy murmured.  
“You mean this version of you won’t exist much longer. I won’t exist at all.” His tone was pensive and quiet. “Can’t say I regret that. I deserve it.”  
“What are you talking about?” Lucy’s hand found purchase on the wall. Panic was beginning to claw its way through her.  
“I mean, when he sees what needs to be done, he’ll do it,” Wyatt spoke with conviction.  
“Like what?” Lucy asked.  
“Going back and making sure she never steps foot in that bunker.” His voice dropped.  
“But you’d die,” Lucy said, the panic was moving to her throat. For a second she felt like throwing up.  
“Duh, Lucy. This was always a one-way trip.” His mocking voice troubled her. For once she saw it was a painful hint of bravado. He was terrified. She could see it in his eyes. The body language.  
“What are you talking about? That wasn’t the plan.” Lucy said.  
“It was always the plan. Who else could go back?” Wyatt said.  
“I thought I’d do it,” Lucy said.  
He laughed. “That version of you couldn’t stop a fly and you know it. Besides, do you really think he’d let you kill yourself.”  
Lucy swallowed hard. She hadn’t thought about Wyatt dying. All she’d been focused on was Rufus. And erasing this horrible life. But she’d expected to go out of this weird timeline and be changed with him. They were always together. Even when they hated each other. Even when they were hurling insults at each other.  
The idea of any timeline version of her living without any timeline version of him made her heartache. She forced her eyes open and saw the pained expression in his eyes. “God, Lucy, this way is so much better. Everyone’s life is so much better off. You’ll have a chance at happiness. Not this shitty place. Rufus will be alive. I’ll be happier. I’d so much rather die back then that live through the last five years again.”  
“God, I hate you.” She choked out, tears beginning to run down her cheeks as she tried to get the pain under control. She felt like dying herself which was ridiculous because she hated him. But oh god, she didn’t hate him. That was why it hurt so much. Why that baby lie had felt like a knife was sticking straight into her chest. Why she wanted to tear into him every time he tried to get Jessica to stop being Rittenhouse. “Did you ever think about how I’d feel about this?”  
“Relieved.” He said bluntly. “I know you hate me. I deserve to die. Started this whole mess in the first place. And he knows it. It will take him a few minutes to get it and realize what he has to do. But once he gets it, he’ll follow through.”  
“No.” Lucy reached up and grabbed him by the shoulders, the force of her movements sending him reeling to the wall. “I refuse to let that happen. Fuck the future. Fuck trying to change the past. Maybe this is just meant to be.”  
“It’s out of our hands. It will happen regardless.” Wyatt’s voice was provokingly calm.  
“I won’t let it happen.” Lucy spit out the words. “You are so selfish. Did it ever occur to you how’d she’d…I’d…feel about it?”  
“It will save her a whole lot of heartache,” Wyatt said bitterly. “Sometimes dead is the better option.”  
“You’re selfish. You want to just end this misery instead of actually fixing it.” She reached out and slapped him across the face. “You always have run away from things with grand heroic gestures. Stealing Lifeboats to get back dead people.”  
“Lucy, if not me, who? There is no one but me. And that wasn’t the only stupid thing I did. Trying to hack my way out of the bunker with a grinder probably took the cake.”  
Lucy was momentarily distracted by his words. “What are you talking about?”  
“When you were gone for those six weeks with Rittenhouse. I went a little crazy trying to find you.”  
Lucy wondered how they’d gone five years without really talking. Perhaps seeing their younger selves, seeing the obvious care and affection they had for each other had rekindled something. Lucy blinked as a wave of tears began to prick her eyes. It shocked her he’d done something similar to what he’d done for Jessica. She knew Christopher would have thrown the book at him for trying to leave the facility with a grinder.  
“There has to be another way,” Lucy said. She gave up the attempt at not crying. She loved him, damn it. And she hated the fact that she did. She’d run away from that love so many times, knowing it would always end in tragedy. And it had.  
“There is no other way.” Wyatt’s voice was suddenly so soft and gentle as his arms wrapped around her waist. “We only a few hours at the most. Why waste it on regrets?”  
“We wasted so much time.” Lucy sobbed. “So many lost years.”  
“I know.” The pain deepened. With shaking hands Lucy reached up and guided his face to hers, pressing her lips to his.  
This kiss was gentle and soft. “I never answered you that night,” Lucy said softly. “Why didn’t you try? Fight for me.”  
“Because I’d already given up. I thought Jessica was all I deserved. That maybe we were meant to be because we were both that fucked up. And it was my fault they turned her this way. And that baby I thought was real.” He sighed and leaned his forehead against hers for a second. “I told you I was a coward.”  
Lucy swallowed. He’d been honest with her for the first time in years. “I thought you didn’t mean it. And it made me so mad. That you’d say something like that and not back it up.”  
“I thought you were happier without me.”  
“You mean with Flynn.” She challenged.  
“You were happy for a while.” He spoke softly. She’d known it practically killed him when he found out she was with Flynn. She’d been perversely happy he was jealous. But then he’d stepped back rapidly, barely interacting with her and certainly behaving the exact opposite of the man who’d been so jealous and angry all the time. She’d assumed he’d stopped caring. She hadn’t realized he wanted her to be happy. That’s why he’d backed off.  
“I was,” Lucy said. “But sometimes you are only meant to be with someone for a while.”  
“Sometimes you aren’t meant to be with anyone,” Wyatt said. “That lightning bolt, soulmate thing, that’s bullshit. You have to make that choice. If this was fate, we’d have ended up together. We just made a lot of other decisions.”  
“I disagree. Fate, it kept pulling us apart. It wasn’t meant to be.” Lucy said.  
“That’s bullshit and you know it.” His tone was harsh. “I was a coward. I was too much of a coward to try to win you back. To spend every waking moment trying to make all that up to you. Hell, I would have probably failed but at least I would have tried.”  
“You wouldn’t have failed,” Lucy said in a tone barely above a whisper. That version of her would have melted like wax to a flame if he’d even made an effort to show that love he’d claimed to feel. She never had believed his words, believed he was mocking her and she’d grown to hate him for it.  
“Well, it’s too late.” The sadness was back again. “I wonder if there is something to eat besides the usual. Don’t most condemned prisoners get their last meal.”  
The attempt at humor fell flat. “Nothing except bread. We should have stolen food while we had a chance.”  
“I’d kill for those cans of food and Pop Tarts,” Wyatt said.  
“We have so little time,” Lucy said softly. It was strange that this life she so loathed was now strangely sweet. They were together at least. Even when they yelled at each other.  
“And…” Wyatt asked.  
“I think we shouldn’t waste any more time.” She said.  
This kiss was aggressive again. “If you’re going to die, you might as well die buried deep inside of me fucking me senseless.”  
“You seem to have an inflated sense of your own abilities.” He murmured.  
“Please,” Lucy scoffed. She racked her hand down his chest, caressing his nipples and smirking up at him.  
“Besides if I die this moment never happened.”  
“God, shut up and kiss me.” She said.  
He obliged eagerly the kiss quickly turned heated. This time was far less savage. There was a finality about it. Knowing this was the end. Lucy was on the verge of tears as his mouth caressed her breasts and almost lost it as he knelt in front of her. “You don’t know how many times I wanted to do this.” He said softly.  
“Get into my pants you mean, can’t say I’m surprised,” Lucy said with a forced laugh.  
“No. Worship you like the goddess you are.” He intentionally kept his face inches away from the spot she wanted him to touch, lips lingering on her inner thighs.  
“I’m not a goddess.” She said impatiently.  
“Goddesses aren’t supposed to be perfect.” He whispered. She threw back her head when his tongue finally touched her clit. She’d never been fond of the beard but it really did things for her in these moments. A stream of curses flowed through her lips as she writhed against the wall. Hands shaking she pressed them against the back of his head, pulling on the short strands of hair. It didn’t take long for her release to hit, all the multi-varied sensation of his mouth doing a number on her.  
“Yep, that would be a good way to go.” He murmured as he stood up. Lucy wondered if he was serious but she saw the wide blown pupils and realized that really had been true.  
Lucy wasn’t sure what to say. She finally said, “Come on. My back is beginning to hurt.”  
They both had a bed in this horrible warehouse and she led him to her own. First, she stripped herself of her pants and boots and watched unashamedly as he did the same. The airless room she’d called home for months was devoid of all personal belongings. The plain bed with nothing but a comforter wasn’t very sturdy to handle the onslaught of what was coming. No pun intended.  
Advancing on Wyatt she said, “Lie down.”  
“Yes, ma’am.” He gave her a cheeky smirk.  
“If you’d listened to what I said you wouldn’t have gotten into this mess,” Lucy said. “That seems like you need a little reminding about who’s boss.”  
He rolled his eyes. “God, you are a bossy…”  
“Know it all,” Lucy said. “Who knows exactly what you want.”  
She really didn’t. The brief time they’d spent in Hollywoodland had only given her a limited amount of time to know his preferences. But she had certain suspicions. One being that he really liked when she tried controlling him. Not that he’d ever admitted it.  
Eyes closed, he gritted out, “Try me.”  
Her hands wrapped around him, movements precise and controlled as she stroked and teased him. “Do you like this?” She moved her hands slowly, “Or this?” Her movements sped up.  
“The first one.” He said.  
She smiled and straddled him, her face a picture of innocence. No one could be sure when the timelines changed. Was it when she used her mouth on him, studying his face with serious eyes or when she was clenched around him, eyes closed as she fought fate with the same restless determination she’d once fought him? But if the timelines should be changed, this was the place she’d be.


	2. Future Wyatt- Movie Version

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Sao Paulo

No one knew how timelines shift. Did that version of them simply move in space and their memories become wiped clean? Or did they simply disappear along with the world they lived in? Regardless there was no denying that this timeline was immeasurably different than the other one. Those people that had visited them was worlds apart from them. They didn’t live in the dark and dismal timeline where hope was gone. Nor did they allow the darkness to separate them.  
It had been the scariest moment of his life, watching Lucy clutch her head in agony as the time travel reaction struck her. He would have rushed over and forcibly pulled her away, causality be damned, if not for Rufus keeping him steady. But then she leaned over and kissed Flynn on the cheek before rushing out, he and Rufus in swift pursuit. The headaches struck him just as he was getting into the Lifeboat, the piercing pain making it nearly impossible to move. It wasn’t a headache. It felt like his body was being ripped apart. If it wasn’t for Rufus helping them fasten their seatbelt and pressing the buttons to send them home, they might not have made it.  
Relief surged through him as the Lifeboat landed and the pain dissipated instantly. Lucy’s face relaxed as the crushing headache left her. Leaning over he unfastened her seat belt, “You ok?”  
“Yes,” She smiled. Then her face grew panicked. “What if they aren’t out there?”  
She was asking about the whole group, but he knew she was mainly concerned with the girls. Were they still there? What if they’d done something to change the timeline that would result in them never having been born? Both of them knew upon how thin a strand their lives hung. Anything could happen. He’d certainly seen that with those future versions of them.  
“Well, we’d figure out a way to fix it,” Rufus said confidently. “Make sure things go to plan.”  
Rufus opened the hatch and they stared out at Agent Christopher, Mason and Jiya. They peeked out behind Jiya and found two small lumps under the blankets. The girls were there. He exchanged glances with Lucy, their eyes meeting in one long look of relief. Then Lucy was scrambling down the stairs, skirts hitched up as she rushed. He followed after his own eagerness to make sure the girls were all right making his brain fuzzy. They were still asleep in their pajamas, soft brown hair tumbling about. Kneeling beside them he stroked their little cheeks, careful to not wake them.  
“They’re ok.” Lucy choked out. She was crying, tears running down her nose. He was startled to feel wetness on his own face.  
He thought he’d known what love was when he met Jessica. He’d been sure when he’d fallen for Lucy. But nothing in the world had prepared him for the love he’d feel for these two little girls. They were his life. Everything before and after was just preparation for this moment. He’d understood why Garcia Flynn had torn through time and space to bring back his daughter. Seeing him so distraught in that bar had been a reminder of all the sacrifice that man had made.  
His Flynn lay there looking peaceful and quiet. The girls were very different in personality and interest but still got along surprisingly well. Flynn was the active one, the one that took after him. She was clumsy and stubborn like her mom. Amy was the quiet one. She was inquisitive and loved to fix things. He had a feeling she’d be the one repairing cars. Flynn was vivacious and a drama queen. Amy was obsessed with animals.  
“They are perfect.” He murmured, pressing a kiss to Lucy’s temple.  
“How are the munchkins?” Rufus whispered. He took his job as Uncle Rufus very seriously. He and Jiya had no plans for kids of their own. (Unless you counted their incredibly spoiled dog, Leia.) That didn’t mean he didn’t adore the girls. He and Jiya were constantly having them over for sleepovers in their fancy house and giving Wyatt and Lucy a little time to themselves.  
“Sleeping, like nothing ever happened,” Lucy whispered back.  
“Good,” Rufus replied. He patted the girls on the top of their head and talked for a few minutes with Connor as Wyatt and Lucy continued staring at the twins. “Hey, we have a flight to catch. You know my mom always wanted to see Italy again. But I’ll be seeing you at the New Year’s party.”  
“Thank you, Rufus.” Lucy gave Rufus one of her signature bone crushing hugs. The girls had inherited them from their mother.  
“Well, I couldn’t let you guys turn into the Tomb raider zombie version of you.” Rufus said.  
“Thanks man.” Wyatt gave him a hug, smiling at his friend’s jokes. It never felt like that guy who stepped out of the Lifeboat was even him.  
Jiya strode over and gave them effusive hugs. “When we get back, we’re having you guys for dinner. We’ve been so busy with the merger.”  
It would have been hard imaging Rufus and Jiya being wealthy tech magnets with a gigantic startup owned and operated by them. But here they were. Riya Industries was every bit as powerful as Mason’s company had been. And unlike Mason, they weren’t investing in time travel. They were always busy, meetings, travel and their philanthropic endeavors making it hard for them to all get together.  
“We understand,” Lucy replied. “These kiddos just got over the flu and then we got it.”  
“Could you have imagined this five years ago?” Jiya asked thoughtfully. She was the only one besides them who remembered seeing Rufus die and everything collapse.  
“No,” Wyatt replied. All of this was so much better than his wildest dreams. He could even begin to understand how he’d been so lucky. That idiot of a guy five years ago had been still behaving like an asshole. He certainly didn’t deserve Lucy or the girls, but they made him want to be a better person for their sakes.  
They said goodbye to Rufus and Jiya and then he and Lucy carried the girls to the room Rufus and Jiya had once slept in. They were still dead to the world so, with a soft kiss to their hair, they left them to sleep. Agent Christopher patted them both on the shoulder and said, “I’ll leave you guys. I can’t believe you are willingly staying here a night.”  
“It’s easier than moving Flynn in the middle of the night. Wanted to avoid a tantrum.” Lucy said with a twinkle. “Believe me, she’s got her dad’s voice.”  
“Hey,” Wyatt said playfully. “She’s both a bossy know it all and a reckless hothead. Not all my fault.”  
Agent Christopher laughed. “She’s a firecracker, that’s for sure. But they are good kids.”  
Connor Mason sighed, “Well, at least my creation is responsible for one good thing. Those girls wouldn’t exist without it.”  
“Come on Connor.” Agent Christopher said, “Michelle made me promise to tell you she’s making an actual fruitcake. It may poison you but it’s authentic.”  
“I can’t wait.” Connor smiled at her. He was spending the week with Agent Christopher and her family. He now lived in Los Angeles, but he’d kept in contact with them all.  
“Bye.” Agent Christopher smiled at them, her face betraying a hint of mischief. “And please remember, this is a government facility.”  
“That means license to do whatever you want, kids,” Connor said with a laugh.  
“Please don’t tell the girls that,” Lucy said. “Or they may start painting the walls.”  
He knew Agent Christopher hadn’t been referring to the girls. She’d been referring to them. As they watched them disappear, he turned to Lucy. “You doing ok?” He asked.  
“It was hard. Seeing him like that, knowing how it will all end. That’s heartbreaking. But…” Lucy took a deep breath. “I can’t be sorry. I’m a selfish, horrible person but I can’t be sorry. I wouldn’t have the girls.”  
Even if they’d managed to find their way back to each other neither of them would have been willing to have children in a timeline like the one where their future selves had come from. Pulling her close he rested his head on the top of hers. “You aren’t selfish, you’re just a mother. You didn’t lie. You told the truth, even though you knew it could erase everything.”  
She nodded her head, eyes sad and downcast. “What did I do to deserve all this?”  
“God, Lucy, you deserve every minute of it and more.” He’d had a simple mission all those years ago. Make Lucy Preston as happy as he had the power to do. And what was shocking was, he’d been able to fulfill that mission as much as it was humanly possible.  
“You are a little biased.” Lucy murmured, her lips turning up into a smile. “I mean, I am your wife.”  
The word always caused a little thrill to run up his spine. “My beautiful, brave, smart, strong, wife.” He punctuated each word with another kiss to her lips.  
“This life, it’s like a dream.” She whispered.  
They made their way back to the room they’d spent one glorious night in. The twins hadn’t been conceived that night, but they might as well have been. Hollywoodland would always be a beautiful memory but it was a little tainted by what came afterward. That night, it had been perfect because it had been fully real. They’d fallen to the lowest they’d ever been and somehow, they’d found their way back. No, he’d fallen to the lowest and she’d somehow managed to love him anyway.  
“I can’t say I miss this place,” Lucy admitted. She began unbuttoning her burgundy dress, the fabric slipping to the floor. It was a testament to her exhaustion that she didn’t even bother picking it up off the floor. He ended up picking it up and laying it on a chair.  
“Neither do I.” The bunker was full of heartbreaking memories. But there were a few good moments. “But you have to say it ended on a good note.”  
“It did.” She replied. She tugged her nightshirt over her head. It wasn’t actually a nightshirt but an old T-shirt of his she’d stolen. He hadn’t complained about the flagrant act of thievery since she knew it did something to him seeing her in his clothes. He shed his own clothes and watched her as she pulled back the sheets and crawled into bed. Her face was pale with exhaustion. She’d been working insanely hard grading papers and tests and worrying about this mission.  
“It didn’t make up for the sadness.” Sighing heavily, he switched off the light. He was still guilty about how he’d acted. That guilt wasn’t going away. And it shouldn’t. Because when you screw up, you had to live with the guilt of hurting other people.  
“It did.” Lucy curled closer to him; her soft body cradled against his. “That night was amazing. I was so happy.”  
“It was pretty good.”  
“Only pretty good.” Lucy raised her eyebrows, a devious smile appearing on her lips. “You mean, best night of your life.”  
“Nope,” He popped the word and then smiled back, “I think that honor would go to the night I married you.”  
“Well, that was a wonderful night.” She replied. “But still, I can’t believe it. Pretty good.”  
He chuckled at her indignation because they both knew that heat and flame had never once been missing from them. Even the sour versions of them had radiated unresolved sexual tension. They’d always been attracted to each other like two magnets, the chemistry roaring between them like a literal flame.  
She yawned in the middle of saying something and he rubbed her back for a moment. Within seconds she was out cold. Truth be told he was tired too. Those girls were exhausting. 

He woke up early the next morning. The girls were still quiet. Lucy stirred and began sitting up, face still screwed up adorably in sleep. It was hard for anyone to be that adorable and sexy all at the same time. She stretched, the hemline of her borrowed t-shirt dancing dangerously up her thigh. Those gorgeous legs that seemed to go on for miles. Her hair was tangled and wild and those lips were pursed in a sleepy pout. God, she was perfect.  
He pressed a kiss to her slender neck, smiling as she sighed contentedly. “Good morning.”  
“Good morning.” She murmured.  
“You check on the girls while I make coffee.” He suggested as she stumbled towards the door. Lucy still looked cross-eyed enough she might not manage to make coffee.  
“Good idea,” Lucy said.  
She came into the kitchen a few minutes later. He handed her a cup of coffee and she sipped it as she said, “The girls are still sleeping.”  
“They went to bed late.” He swallowed the coffee but was too distracted by another taste to even taste coffee. Memories of all the fantasies he’d harbored in this bunker filled his head. When she’d spent those terrible six weeks with Rittenhouse, he’d let his mind run wild, the passionate sexual fantasies far more pleasant to think about than her being injured or killed. Then when she was back, her very presence fueled the longing. Even after Jessica was back, he fought his own mind, struggling not to think of her in that way but unable to stop remembering her as she was in his dreams.  
“We should take a shower.” She whispered. Her smile was soft and tender but there was hunger in her eyes.  
“I’d like that.” Her mouth tasted like coffee and suddenly his appreciation for the beverage increased the kiss deepened.  
“The girls could wake up.” She said hesitantly.  
“They’ll be ok.” He replied. “They know not to open locked doors.”  
The bunker had been cleared off pretty much anything that could hurt the girls (Wyatt had done a thorough check the day before which Agent Christopher claimed bordered on the neurotic). Even the Lifeboat was nothing more than a hunk of grey metal. Lucy nodded. They were probably safer here than at home with all the potential hazards of outside. (Flynn was going to get herself killed before she was ten with her propensity to jump off any surface and Amy was obsessed with cars and small animals.)  
There was no preamble to this moment. It moved from casual coffee drinking to a sensual moment like breathing. It took just a second to grab the shower kit and then the door was locked, and they stood their grinning and laughing. It wasn’t new, showering together, but never in the bunker. “The lock is new,” Lucy commented.  
“Other us must have been concerned with privacy more. I wonder why.” He grinned at her and came nearer.  
“I can’t imagine the reason.” She replied with a twinkle. A squeak left her mouth as his hand came to rest on her ass and pulled her closer.  
“Hmm…. that seems like you have a poor memory.” She prided herself on her exceptional memory (she was a history professor).  
She sighed against him and kissed him eagerly, her fingers combing through his hair and dancing along his jaw. “Such a poor memory that I don’t remember how you talked about how you wanted to fuck me in this shower, eh sweetheart?”  
He’d actually forgotten he’d ever said that. Probably admitted it in the delicious post satisfied haze of an evening. “Like you didn’t ever have fantasies.”  
“Not here.” Lucy glanced around, her nose wrinkling, “Seven people and one bathroom that was always gross no matter what. Not my idea of sexy.”  
“Any way I could change your mind on that?”  
“Well, you can try.” She said with an innocent look.  
She was basically giving him carte blanche to do whatever he wanted with her. He’d been with Lucy long enough to have a good idea of her likes and dislikes. The Wyatt of today could read Lucy almost as well as he knew himself. He knew she meant it. Tugging her closer he pressed a series of kissing down her neck focusing on that sensitive spot right below her ear. She moaned a little as his teeth grazed the spot. It was almost too much, the fulfillment of all too many fantasies back in the day when the only release was himself and a cold shower.  
Grasping the hem of her (his) t-shirt he pulled it up and off her. She was clad in absolutely nothing. She flushed and shifted in the brightly lit bathroom. She claimed she was uncomfortable with her body and the stretch marks that littered her stomach. How could she think of herself as anything less than glorious? She’d come a long way in the confidence department since the days she’d confessed she thought she was a nerd. Pulling her close he situated her right in front of the mirror, standing behind her. “This isn’t the shower,” Lucy said shakily. She kept her eyes steadfastly on his face in the mirror and not on her own body.  
“Well, that water would be an iceberg by the time I’m finished.” He whispered. There was no need for cold showers, not anymore.  
“Good plan,” Lucy replied. Her breath caught as his hand grazed along her side moving from the side of her breast down her thigh in slow, teasing circles. Her head fell to the side as she closed her eyes. The other hand found her breast, thumb grazing her tight peak. Her breath deepened into a sharp pant, as his fingers caressed her inner thigh, staying far away from where she wanted him. He fixed his eyes on her in the mirror, marveling that she could still overwhelm him even after being together five years.  
“Wyatt.” She wined sharply. Looking at them from the outside one might have thought she was the patient one. She wasn’t. She hated being teased. (She loved teasing him, but that wasn’t really a surprise.)  
“Only if you open your eyes.” He was surprised at saying it, but he wanted her to see herself. See what he saw every time he looked at her.  
"Ok." She hesitated. Lucy was never one to do anything sexually she wasn’t comfortable with, no matter who asked. Then she opened her eyes, fixing them on herself in the mirror. He moved his hand and slid a finger inside her. She started, eyes widening as she saw herself. When he slid another finger inside and curled them, she moaned loudly, her face twisting up. She fought to keep her eyes open, biting her lip and pressing back against him. It was his turn to groan, the combination of seeing her so free and open and her touch almost doing him in.  
There was something about this moment, in front of the same mirror he’d punched in his anger and fear over her disappearance, that was undeniably sensual and erotic. In this place where they’d suffered so much, where she’d continually pushed her own needs aside, it felt like the closing of the loop to finally see the pieces coming together. “Ohh…” she cried out as his thumb circled her clit. Her eyes fluttered closed again.  
“This is who you are, all the time.”  
She opened her eyes again, hazy and unfocused and met his in the mirror. Then he added a third finger, pressing his thumb harder against her. She groaned; eyes forced open as she watched herself come. For a moment or two she just stood there, panting and staring at herself. His lips trailed along her neck, fighting for control because there was nothing sexier than seeing her looking like that. Nothing that turned him on faster than seeing her writhe and moan at his touch.  
“Is that the way you see me?” She asked.  
“Yes, and more.” She turned to him, pressing herself unexpectedly against him and kissing him. Her hands tangled themselves in his hair, fingers dancing along his shoulders and back.  
“We’re not finished.” She said a little fiercely. Her eyes flashed molten sparks. He might have taken the control earlier, but she was taking it back. She tugged his shirt and boxers off and added, “Turn on the water.”  
Wyatt had forgotten just how terrible the water pressure was and how cold the water came out. Wincing at the freezing water he supposed it was just as well. Seeing her lose control like that had been a little too stimulating. She held the shampoo and body wash and a sponge in her hand as she came nearer. Her face was soft and open as she laid them on the ledge. The only good thing about the shitty shower situation was the water didn’t get into his eyes as he pushed her back against the wall. He kept a good grip on her because Lucy had definitely not lost her clumsiness, and no one wanted any falls. She reached out to grab the ledge and smiled up at him, “Well, what are you waiting for?”  
He didn’t need a second invitation. He pushed into her, the movement as smooth and easy as breathing. They both gasped at the sensation, the feeling of finally coming together always overwhelming. Pressing his face against the cold tile he took a breath. This really was everything his brooding self five years ago would have dreamed about. And more.  
“Does the reality stack up to the fantasy?” She asked.  
“Oh god, yes. More.” Pulling back, he pushed into her again, the movement slamming her back against the wall. She moaned again, her body clenching up involuntarily. Pressing a hand against the wall behind her head he set a brutal pace. It was going to be quick. The heat and desire curled up his spine. The advantage of so long together, he knew just when to press his fingers against her, when she was almost on the edge of losing it. Knew she liked the rough and desperate pace. She gave as good as she got, pressing her body back against him and digging her fingernails into his skin, possibly drawing a little blood. If he was going to be marked, there was no one he’d rather be marked by than her.  
His lips met hers just as she let go, swallowing up her moans as felt himself lose control. Not until he needed breath did he pull away. Still panting she murmured, “Well, you convinced me.”  
Grinning down at her like the besotted fool he always was he reached out blindly for the bottle of soap. The water was already cooling down. In a minute or two it would be freezing. Pouring the soap on the sponge he ran it along her skin. She laughed happily and started to shampoo his hair. She managed to get soap in his eyes, but he didn’t have the heart to complain.  
They finished just in time. The water was nearly too cold to handle when they shut it off and started toweling off. “I must admit, I prefer showers at home,” Lucy said.  
“So do I.” Home always would be the best place. It was the place they had their family. It was the place they’d really settled into.  
A voice at the door startled them. “Mommy, Daddy. I’m hungry.” Flynn’s fretful voice filled the air.  
“I’ll be out in a second, sweetie,” Lucy replied, her voice somehow being tender and loud. He’d thought her tone of voice with him was soft. It was nothing compared to the way she talked to the girls.  
Lucy threw on her clothes and plopped her hair in a towel before running out the door to corral the girls into the kitchen and get them their cereal. He finished shaving and dressing and followed. Lucy was standing by the sink, a mug of coffee in her hand and a huge smile on her face as she looked at them. Amy looked up from her cereal and rushed towards him. “Daddy.” She called.  
“How’s my little liebchen doing?” He asked as he picked her up. She smelled like strawberries. She put her little arms around his neck and giggled.  
“Good, daddy.” Her grin lit up her face. He planted her back in her seat to finish breakfast and gave Flynn a kiss on her cheek.  
“Daddy.” She smiled up at him but kept on eating. Nobody separated his daughter from her food. She had developed a passion for cooking and adored helping him in the kitchen.  
This life, how could it be his? Was it some sort of bizarre fantasy he’d wake up one day and realize was just a dream? He didn’t deserve it, but he was so grateful it had happened. Perhaps miracles really did happen. It had happened to them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised a happier part two of the Futures, this time the ones we saw at the end. I think, based off of my understanding of the show, that this version of Lucy is the one that always visits Sao Paulo because other Lucy always erases herself. That being said, I wrote that other Lucy visited Sao Paulo because it's possible she actually did.  
> Anyway, I was experimenting with more female gaze type smut and in this case, despite being in Wyatt's POV is more about how Lucy sees herself. I think she's still a little insecure about her appearance like most women especially since society is so judgemental of your body after a certain age. She just needs a little nudge out of her comfort zone to see herself the way she really is. (I think there is also a certain freedom in finally having closed the time travel loops.) And that mirror figures so much in Season 2 as a symbol of how Wyatt feels about her. I think it's nice to see that loop finally closed up. And well, nobody is complaining about shower smut. Nevertheless, I really think the bunker bathroom is gross so I had to be realistic lol.

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: This fic came about from a Twitter DM where I was complaining about the futures hating each other. I then thought about a smutty hate sex fic and this is the result. It turned out a lot more emotional and angsty than I expected. I realized that most likely Future Wyatt expected his past self to go back and prevent Jessica from entering the bunker and therefore killing himself in the process. Lucy’s past self wouldn’t have been able to do it. And we know the writers specifically said Lucy never dreamed Flynn would go. I think Future Lucy never really examined who would go and when she realizes Wyatt will die to save Rufus she realizes that she really did love him. (I didn’t have her say it. I think this version of her wouldn’t.) This is way more explicit than I normally write but I feel like it suits this version of the characters. It ended up working for Lyatt Week anyway.  
> I will definitely be writing a part two from the perspective of our happy Future Lyatt from the movie. As sad as I am this version was so antagonistic towards each other I'm really enjoying how all the aggression makes it so easy to write something so smutty. Also it's now my personal headcanon as to how they spent the time before the timelines changed. I mean there is no canonical proof they didn't.


End file.
